We arrived as dusk was falling after a hellish drive out of London, parked in a bordering field and walked past an immaculate recycling point with signs made out of old records to enter the festival a few yards down the track. As we waited for our press passes a man with his bike picked up a free beer token with his ticket, a thanks for cycling to Wood. It’s the special touches such as this that make Wood Festival quite unique.

Once our tent was up it was time to check out Goodnight Lenin in the Tree Tent, where a protracted soundcheck was made light of with a humorous discussion about the various merits of certain crisp flavours.

Then it was a short trot over to the main Wood Stage (when I say main, I mean it wasn’t inside a tent) for Thea Gilmore, who from afar sounded a bit 80s but up close was a bit middle of the road folk for my tastes. But she’s got a great voice and she had a good line in banter, bemoaning her lack of festival cider due to pregnancy.

Thea Gilmore.

Back at the Tree Tent the last set of the night came from Telling the Bees, at which point I must confess that I have a bit of a soft spot for protest folk. Telling the Bees are best described as Levellers meets Circulus – a mix of tuneful folk, protest lyrics, unusual instruments and a certain sartorial extravagance. Bagpipes and pearls should be obligatory at all festivals.

Telling the Bees.

Before bed there was just time to hang out for a bit at the central camp fire, a lovely way to end the evening.